“Maziel, take the rest of the herd and go deep into Tinuvel.” Mariael spoke with a low voice.
Winter would soon fade from the shores of the tundra island, but compared to others it seemed Tinuvel missed such a notice. Snow freshly fallen from the morning drenched the world in a blanket of pretty white, the ice dulled from shining by the blanket of grey clouds thick in the sky. Maziel opened her mouth as if to speak, but Mariael was as unmoving as stone. She did not flick an ear back toward her sister nor did she offer any attention away from what lie before her.
“Now. Aubrey is due soon and we cannot risk her safety. Father and I will come as soon as this mess is through.”
Already young Mariael bore too many scars for her body. They painted what would otherwise be a pristine cream and white canvas. One, the most noticeable, was that along the skin of her right cheek, where never would hair grow quite right again. Twice in such a short time period she’d sustained injuries there, first by Jasiri and second by the buckskin stallion who’d threatened the security of her herd.
Maziel nodded meekly and turned, blindly walking with the herd as they traveled further inland. Up in the mountains they would stay, in caves carved from the very rock as they awaited word from that who they trusted to lead them. With other members of the queensguard among their numbers, Nephilim broke away from the herd, one nuzzle extended toward those of his personal herd and one to Maziel. With a soft huff of air, a cloud in the cold, he stopped beside his daughter.
Nephilim too, bore scars on his palomino-freckled coat, those dealt when the snow was fresher and he’d feared the loss of Rohanne.
For a moment they stood quiet, side by side, the inner forest of the Bay surrounding them and then, Mariael began to move. Nephilim fell in-step beside his daughter, having grown to respect her over the few seasons since he’d relinquished his rule to her. He had little qualm in walking by her side, or in allowing her to take on what leadership qualities it was clear she already possessed.
They stopped as the forest lay behind them and the open shore of their home lay before them. They stood tall. Mariael’s blue eyes cut for the one figure she was seeking, the one who’d hope to monopolize as the end of winter crawled to Tinuvel and she was forced further inland than about its borders. She did not speak, but waited.
Surely he was the fool who’d make the first move, whether it be in action or speak. He’d already proven himself one in her eyes.
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